Always Blame Matsuri
by Citrus Akume
Summary: Always blame Matsuri for the crazy randomness happening between all of the males... This time he's gone too far... much too far.. Sunao wakes up in a dress handcuffed in a closet to Shinichirou Minato... Dammit Matsuri. [ShinichirouxSunao] nothing graphic


Disclaimer: I do not own Sukisho!, characters, or anything related. All I own is this story, and I am making no money (damn it).

(My first Sukisho! Fanfic!)

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There were few things that Fujimori Sunao truly hated…. But, the two top things at the current moment were: 1. Forced into wearing a dress, and 2. Honjou Matsuri… Somehow, thanks to #2 he'd ended up in a dress-again. Though, he had to admit the first dress he'd been forced into was much more preferable to the one he was currently clothed in.

White vinyl clung tight to his curved figure, neon pink seams and short sleeves matching the neon hue. The white dress only midway down his thighs, leading to thin, round legs wrapped in fluorescent, bright pink fishnets and white go-go boots that went up to his knees. Sunao was seriously starting to wonder how he'd be able to walk and where the hell Matsuri got these clothes…

The situation wouldn't have been near as bad if he didn't have to share a very small space With Minato Shinichirou… and it wouldn't have been near near as bad, if they weren't handcuffed….

The chain on their constricting metal cuffs was nonexistent and made the situation uncomfortable due to the fact that he was practically sitting on his professor's lap.

Shinichirou huffed, finally breaking the silence, "Sunao…." He started, "I really… think you should sit somewhere else…", he gave a light groan of discomfort as he tried to figure out a way to find another place for the teen to sit.

"You know, Professor, that I'd love to… But due to the fact of the space issue, and handcuffs- that's practically impossible…" he spoke clearly, as if the situation wasn't odd at all, making Minato wonder how often this really happened.

"Sunao… you don't understand…" he gave a deep sigh, his sanity at stake, "When a man… like me… has an attractive young man, dressed as you are… sitting on his lap.. Certain problems…" he paused a moment to think of a proper word, "eh… arise…. And I'd like you to know that I'm not really comfortable with that…"

A look of dawning comprehension passed across the teen's features, "Oh… Oh! Oh…" a soft giggle, then a few maneuvers to get off of the man and by him instead on the cold ground.

"Thank you…" Shinichirou gave a relieved sigh this time, trying to think anything that would make the _other_ disturbance disappear.

Minato closed his eyes a moment, rubbed the bridge of his nose with his un-cuffed hand then looked over at the teen as he opened his eyes.

The teen's back was against the wall head down in a tired gesture, legs out in front of him crossed together. '_My God, those legs!_' Minato observed; the pale, long legs covered in the neon-holed fabric that showed off the legs that were better than any woman's by far. And his figure! –gasp- It was curved like a woman's, though lacking breasts, that the multi-layers of vinyl clung to. Sakura colored tresses were loose and brushed out, cascading around him in wondrous curls.

"Sunao..." Minato spoke without realizing it, and was surprised when the teen looked over at him.

Light pink makeup, a stark contrast against the moon petal skin, soft as a rose and pale as the moon, only accentuating the natural beauty.

"Yes, sir?" the teen questioned, his large pink eyes staring into his- his voice almost sensual, almost tangible.

Suddenly the older man got images, highly inappropriate images, in his mind of the teen moaning and writhing under him in the heat of passion… Just then blood sprayed out of his nose, earning a startled gasp from the very image from his thoughts, "Y-your nose!" a rip of material was heard and soft material was pressed against the bleeding.

"Su-Sunao.." the man softly moaned, feeling the cool hands against his heated skin. He reached out to Sunao's dress, his fingers gripping around the slick material as he pulled the pink haired angel flush against his chest, his surprised face only centimeters from Shinichirou's smirking one.

"S-Sir…?" Sunao whispered, feeling the warm breath on his face, holding his own in. Minato smiled, the boy smelled of vanilla and suddenly got the curious urge to inspect if he tasted the same. With this urge he claimed the soft pink lips with his own, pulling the body under his as he straddled over it.

Sunao only lay frozen, body paralyzed with surprise. Minato pulled his lips back, staring into the pink eyes that lidded some before turning a deep crimson. "Yoru!" a different voice called out from the painted lips.

'Oh…shit….' Minato thought, hearing their cell door open; he looked up- only to find himself staring into the mismatched eyes of a very-very angry looking Yoru…

-End-


End file.
